


Only Bought This Dress So You Could Take It Off

by fivecansofolives



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Chaptered, Fluff, M/M, depends on my motivation level honestly, maybe smut in later chapters???, the story of how jeff started falling for craig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29698416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivecansofolives/pseuds/fivecansofolives
Summary: an s.o.s. text and some unexplored feelings, or the story of how jeff started falling for craigi'm not sure if i want to write more of this one yet but i'm thinking about it!
Relationships: Dean Craig Pelton/Jeff Winger
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Only Bought This Dress So You Could Take It Off

The study group was fighting again. Jeff figured it was a testament to the way they had found the perfect dichotomy of people. Everyone had traits that counteract each other, which normally created a sort of equilibrium in Study Room F. Most of the time, their respective differences gave them a compelling group dynamic. Today, they gave Jeff a headache.

He knew how it started, but he had been zoned out for so long that he had no idea what topics they had escalated to by this point. Tuning back into the conversation, he caught a few flying remarks. 

“Have you ever  _ seen _ a snail’s toenails? You don’t know that they don’t exist.”

“I’ve seen lots of things. I lived in New York!”

“Snails are gastropods, it’s biologically impossible for them to have toenails. If  _ any _ of you knuckle-walkers paid attention in biology class you’d know that!”

“If the good Lord wanted us to see snail’s nails, we would have seen them by now!”

“We’ve done a lot of arguing scenes lately; we’re reaching a point of diminishing returns.”

“Ay-bed, nobody understands any of the gobbledy-gook that comes out of your weird little head.”

As more of a reflex than anything, he whipped out his Blackberry and began toying with its buttons. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying desperately to drown out the noise. With everyone talking at once, this was more of a feat than he could manage. Restlessly, he scrolled through the contacts in his phone. Maybe he could find a sexy redhead with whom he could share a witty back-and-forth to pass the time. Maybe he could make plans with a friend from his old law firm. Maybe he could give up and play FruitMatcher Blitz.

As the third option became increasingly more appealing, his eyes landed on a name. Someone he reluctantly admitted could fix this nonsense, or at least make the noise stop for a while. 

**[from: jeff winger - 10:27 am.]**

i need ur help.

**[from: craig pelton - 10:27 am.]**

Jeffrey! What a pleasant surprise! What do you need my help with? You know I’ll do anything ;)

_ Craig I. Pelton _

_ Dean of Greendale CC _

_ Assistant Water Polo Coach _

_ Truck Stop Aficionado _

_ Dalmatian Lover _

_ Two-Time Colorado Salsa Champion _

_ (don’t google that ^) _

_ Lean Mean Deaning Machine _

  
  


Jeff wondered if it was worth it. He had been trying to limit his interactions with the dean lately. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but that was a level of self analysis that he wasn’t prepared to do without a bottle of twelve year old scotch handy. Now was not the time. All he knew was that he felt a weird washing-machine sensation in his stomach whenever Craig looked at him. His current hypothesis was guilt. Guilt that he was cheating his way through an education at the school that Craig cared about so much. Had he ever felt guilty about anything in his life? No. Was he going to mentally double down on that answer so he didn’t have to think about it anymore? You fucking betcha. 

So, he avoided the dean. As much as possible. Which was a lot harder than it sounds. And he  _ certainly _ didn’t need Craig Pelton bounding into the room any more often than he already did.

But, nonetheless, his headache pounded on and he was quickly becoming desperate for relief. 

**[from: jeff winger - 10:31 am.]**

🙄 not like that. come to library. study group fighting. plz fix this

**[from: craig pelton - 10:31 am.]**

Of course I’ll fix it, Jeffrey! What outfit should I wear? X

_ Craig I. Pelton _

_ Dean of Greendale CC _

_ Assistant Water Polo Coach _

_ Truck Stop Aficionado _

_ Dalmatian Lover _

_ Two-Time Colorado Salsa Champion _

_ (don’t google that ^) _

_ Lean Mean Deaning Machine _

**[from: jeff winger - 10:32 am.]**

no outfit. here NOW. 

AND CAN YOU PLEASE TURN THAT SIGNATURE OFF?

**[from: craig pelton - 10:33 am.]**

No outfit?! Well, if you insist… ;) 

(And there’s no need to yell, Jeffrey!)

**[from: jeff winger - 10:34 am.]**

dean. 

u know what i meant.

**[from: craig pelton - 10:34 am.]**

You’re no fun.

Fine. I’ll help you out, Jeffrey, but only if you pick one of my outfits for me to wear. X

**[from: jeff winger - 10:35 am.]**

… 

Jeff slammed his phone down on the table, the sound of which barely registered over all the bickering. He was really considering backing out now. He could just leave, after all. He could just pick up his jacket and walk out the door and —

**[from: jeff winger - 10:39 am.]**

cancan girl.

He sighed. The deed was done. Mere seconds after he had hit send on the message, a cheery and familiar voice rang out through the room, shattering the tension.

“Dean-dong!” The dean pretended to open an invisible door in front of him, despite having already entered the library.

Jeff stared at him incredulously. There was no way he had gotten in full costume and makeup in mere seconds. He had to have already been wearing it when Jeff texted, right? 

_ Unless he somehow guessed that was the outfit I would pick _ , Jeff thought to himself.

“How the hell did you—”

Craig shot him a cautionary look, not wanting Jeff to reveal their text conversation and blow his own mission. “— find such a gorgeous wig? It was on sale! Thank you for asking, Jeffrey!” Craig finished with a smile.

Jeff had to admit it was, in fact, a gorgeous wig. He had seen it a few times before in his time at Greendale, and he knew it was one of Craig’s favorites. Luxurious auburn curls fanned across the petite man’s shoulders. They were the perfect texture for Jeff to sink his fingers into and pull. 

_ No. Nope! Absolutely not. _ He shivered, revolted that his brain would even go there. 

It wasn’t that Jeff had never been attracted to men before. There were the few odd late-night encounters with Alan at his old firm (regrettable), and he found Rich more than a little enticing, though he would never admit it. He would never  _ actually _ label himself as anything, but the idea of being with another man had never been out of the question.

It was just…  _ Craig _ ? Now,  _ he _ was out of the question. He was certainly not what Jeff would think of as his “type”, considering he clocked in at around 5’7”, was bald, kinky,  _ obviously _ submissive as hell, worshipped the ground Jeff walked on, some of these were starting to sound like pros instead of cons—  _ oh god oh fuck. _

“Anyway!” Craig’s voice pierced through Jeff’s racing internal monologue. “I just thought I’d stop in and see how my favorite study group is doing!”

The group’s dispute slowly melted into a chorus of fairly agreeable responses, and then to silence. Jeff gazed up at the dean in wonder. 

_ How did he do that?  _

With one single smile and a couple of cheerful words, he had calmed the fiercest storm the group had seen in months. That smile, Jeff decided, was a power more dangerous than even the most convincing Winger Speech. That smile could move mountains. It could part the sea. It could melt the heart of a cold and calculating former lawyer with some pretty intense emotional walls up. It could—

“Lovely! I’ll pop right back in if anyone needs anything.” Craig chirped. He twirled his skirt around in typical cancan fashion, revealing the thigh high garters underneath, and turned to go, winking at Jeff on his way out. A lump began forming in Jeff’s throat, which he promptly dismissed. 

_ Why the fuck did I pick the cancan girl? _


End file.
